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trashyswitch · 7 months

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Dangerous? Or Friendly?

Mike is fearful of the animatronics. I mean, can you blame him? They're huge! But Abby appears to gain their trust really quickly. Who are these ghost kids hidden in the animatronics? And why do they want to play with him so badly?

Thus begins the first of many FNAF Movie fanfics. I had started this fanfic before watching the movie. Then, when I watched the movie, I went home and tweaked it before finishing off the rest of the story. Naturally, this fanfic is going to contain spoilers. But despite that, I hope you like it!

Mike stared at the huge bear animatronic that was walking closer to him. He had picked up a chair in an attempt to hit the bear animatronic…or at the very least, keep some space between them…He desperately didn’t want to die by the animatronics tonight. All he wanted was to finish this shift and get the heck out of there.

“Mike!” He heard, running from the animatronics up to her brother. “They wouldn’t stop tickling me. I thought I was gonna die!” Abby explained.

Mike was too busy staring at the orange-coloured eyes of the bear animatronic. It was not only huge, but the thing was growling at him suspiciously. He was too busy focusing on that, to realize Abby’s choice of words at first.

“Freddy…this is my brother, Mike.” Abby told the bear.

The bear looked Mike up and down, still suspicious of the adult in front of it. Mike didn’t know what to say…or even what to do. The only thing keeping him safe was the wooden chair in his hands. According to Abby, these huge machines weren’t really hurting her…well, not technically. They were tickling her, but not really causing any other harm to her. But he didn’t care if they were harmless right now…the animatronics were still hella terrifying…

Freddy’s eyebrows dropped their ferocious scowl and raised into a more ‘happy’ facial expression. Mike was a little taken aback by this. Was Freddy…not angry at him anymore? Then, the bunny animatronic started making its way up to Mike next. Still scared of the other animatronics, Mike quickly aimed the chair towards the bunny, making sure to keep some distance between them. “Stay there.” He warned. “Abby, get behind me.” he attempted to order.

Abby looked at her brother with worry. “They’re not gonna hurt you. You’re with me.” She told him.

Mike was still unsure though. He'd rather risk losing their trust and keep the chair up, than lower the chair and let his guard down. As much as he trusted his sister…he was too scared to do anything that risked getting him killed. But…if he’s with Abby…and Abby gained the trust of the animatronics…then maybe…

“This is Freddy, Bonnie, Foxy and Chica.” Abby told him, pointing to every animatronic as she said the names.

He started to lower the chair. The chicken and the fox animatronics made their way closer to Mike as well, soon surrounding Mike in somewhat of a rough circle. Mike looked a little more nervous now…cause it seemed that no matter where he looked, an animatronic would be staring right at him. Though Freddy and Bonnie’s eyebrows had calmed down and showed its trust, the others hadn’t yet. They still looked as suspicious as ever.

But right as Mike felt like he finally had some control and comfort…he felt a single poke to his side.

“-?!” Mike jumped, barely making a sound as he contorted his body to look at the animatronic that had poked him. “Who did that?!” He asked, staring at both the chicken and the fox.

Abby giggled. “Chica did!” She told him.

“W-which one? The…yellow one?” Mike asked.

“Yup! Chica, as in chicken.” Abby replied.

Though he would never admit it, Abby’s wordplay…was actually a good strategy to help him remember the name.

“W-what…” Mike attempted to ask Chica as it got slightly closer. “What are you…”

Another poke hit him right in the ribs, surprising Mike enough to let out something. “aAh-?!” His voice wobbled, a strained, tiny smile appearing on his face for only a moment. “No.” Mike warned the fox, who was staring at Mike and holding its index finger up in frozen shock.

Abby smirked. “Uh oh~” she teased.

“Abby, no.” Mike warned his sister.

“It’s too late~” Abby teased evilly, letting out a giggle.

“Abby- GaAha-!” He jumped again, curling in a little bit and temporarily losing his footing.

“Go for the ribs and armpits!” Abby declared.

Mike looked over at Abby with panic and betrayal. “ABBY!” He reacted.

“His feet are ticklish too! Hehehe!” Abby giggled.

Mike shot Abby a fearful glare. “Shut it!” He ordered. Then he looked at the animatronics, which were all staring at Mike just inches away from him. “Sh-she’s lying!” He told them desperately, hoping and praying they don’t try anything.

But this lie didn’t do anything…in fact, all it did was encourage Abby to run up and squeeze his sides! Mike gasped and hugged himself, curling up a bit and trying to keep his laughter in. “aAH- ST-Stop- stOP!” He ordered in desperation. Though they weren’t the most ticklish spot, they were still bad enough to render him somewhat helpless.

“See?” Abby told the animatronics with a proud, shit-eating grin.

The animatronics looked back and forth amongst each other, showing contentment in their robot faces. Mike didn’t know whether he wanted to strangle his sister, or run away. He loved his sister, but my god…the girl loved to test the waters and make him question it. And if this week wasn’t evidence enough of that…then I don’t know what was.

On top of that, Mike could feel his knees beginning to buckle due to his sister’s tickles. He was curling into the sides and fighting every instinct to flee as he felt his legs weaken further and further. He knew he was going down slowly…but he was not going down without a vigorous fight. But his arms could only protect so much at once, especially when you’re trying to prove to the animatronics just how not ticklish he was. The truth was…Abby was right. He’s very ticklish, and wouldn’t be able to last much longer.

The man wasn’t sure if he should continue to fight on, or just give up and laugh.

…And then Abby pulled a brutal move on him…by squeezing his lower ribs.

“aAAHA!” Mike dropped to his knees and hugged his ribs. “A-ABBYHYHY-!” Mike shouted, flopping onto his side and kicking his legs as Abby playfully dug further into his ribs. Mike had closed his eyes…which meant he couldn’t see the animatronics’ reactions and movements. Dammit, Abby! Why must she do this to him!?

Mike’s panic only exacerbated the moment he felt a pair of large, metal, blue hands grab his waist and lift him up. Yes…I am not kidding. The animatronic lifted him up like a toddler, not even phased by the size and weight of this security guard. “AAH! NO! LET ME GO!” Mike shouted, now squirming and kicking his feet wildly. But to no one’s surprise, not even a body shift could compromise the animatronic’s undeniable strength. Whoever thought making scarily strong animatronics like this was a good idea…was unbelievably insane.

“Wow! Bonnie’s really strong!” Abby reacted, somehow unphased by this huge feat.

But Mike’s squirming halted for only a moment when he felt skitters and squeezes on his upper ribs. Mike gasped and started squirming for a completely different reason, as a wobbly, stupid little smile began to fill his lips. “Ohno- NONONO-!” Mike opened his eyes and screeched as he felt the fat skittering fingers of the bear animatronic, moving up and down his lower front ribs. Finally, Mike burst out in surprised laughter as he tried and failed to get out of their strong grip. “OHGOD NOHOHOHOhohooo! aaAAHAHAAA-!? NOHOHO! Thihis isn’t fahahairrr!” He laughed.

Abby was giggling like mad, loving every second of this. “Hahaha! How’s it feel being tickled by robot tickle monsters?” Abby asked with a grin.

“Thihihis ihis INSAHAHAHANE!” He hung his head and shook in Bonnie’s grasp. “C-Cohohome ohon-” He jumped and lost his composure yet again, when he felt the blue fingers going up his ribs slightly to the 4th or 5th rib. “NAHAHAHAhahahaha! W-WAHAIT- GAHAHAhahaha!” Mike yelled.

Abby smiled brightly. “Go for the armpits! His armpits are bad too! They make him all squeaky!” Abby told Freddy.

Mike groaned through his laughter. “Abs plehehease stohohohop!” He pleaded. “Yohohohou’re nohohot- NO!” Mike screeched and yelled as Bonnie scooted its hands slightly lower on his ribs, presumably so Freddy had more access to his underarms…

Why Abby keeps telling Freddy and the animatronics his ticklish secrets, he could not tell you. But man, he was tempted to tickle his sister to tears the moment he got free.

“F-FREDDYWAIT-” Mike stared at the thick fingers that were subtly threatening to tickle his now-vulnerable armpits. When Freddy had placed the fingers mere millimeters away from his armpits, Mike knew he was doomed. But still…he tried one last attempt to ask for freedom. He gulped. “Uh….m-mercy?” He asked rather anxiously.

Freddy’s ears wiggled slightly before the fingers finally touched down on his armpits. Just the touch down was ticklish enough! But when the fingers started MOVING?! HOLY CRAP, IT TICKLED LIKE MAD! Any amount of laughter that filled his lungs, came out in an uncharacteristic, high-pitched squeal. “aaaAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA! AAAAAHAHAHAHAHA! NOHO! NaAaAAH! NAHAHAHEHEHEHE!” Mike squeaked and squealed through his laughter.

Abby just laughed as she watched. “Isn’t Mike’s laugh funny?” Abby asked.

Freddy then stopped his tickle attack for a moment, to let the man breathe. Mike treated the break like a trophy, and happily took advantage. It was like he hadn’t taken a breath in years! The feeling of a simple breath made him overwhelmed with gratitude. He cleared his throat a little bit as he tried to pull himself together.

Once Mike felt calm enough to properly think, he tried to get himself free from Bonnie’s grip. “Okay…You had your fun. Can you please let me go now?” Mike asked.

Abby looked at the other animatronics and watched as they…almost conversed with each other. Mike watched them with both confusion, and fear in his eyes. He lowered himself slightly to talk to Abby. “What’s happening? What are they talking about?” Mike asked.

She giggled. “They’re talking about what tickle spot to go for next.” She told him outright.

Mike bit his lip. Oh no…Not good.

Wait…How does she know?! Can she- Can she TALK TO THEM?!

Mike widened his eyes and turned to Abby with fear visible in his eyes. “Can you tell them to stop?” Mike asked.

Abby tilted her head. “Why? They just want to play.” She told him.

“I…I don’t have time to play. I’m supposed to be working.” Mike told him.

The animatronics stopped their ‘conversation’ and looked over at Mike and Abby. Mike tensed up slightly as he stared at the animatronic bear’s eyes again. Something about those eyes looked dead inside, yet…their eyes glowed in a human-kind of way that made a shiver move up his spine. It was nerve-wracking, and he wasn’t sure he liked it all that much.

But Freddy looked over at Chica, and…started waving for Chica to come over. Mike widened his eyes and started squirming all over again. No no no, that chicken thing had better not be getting closer to him. Abby had gasped and covered her mouth, letting out an excited squeal. Oh no! What in the world were they planning that was so exciting to her?!

“Abby?! What are they planning?!” Mike asked.

Abby looked at Mike, and giggled menacingly. For the love of-WHY WON’T SHE TELL HIM?!

Mike looked at the chicken animatronic and prepared himself. “Chick-Chica NO.” Mike lifted his right foot up and started pushing against Chica’s middle chest. “Stay back. I’m warning you.” He ordered before pushing with his other foot as well, in an attempt to get the animatronic away from him.

But to both Mike AND Abby’s surprise, Chica grabbed his ankles, and gave him a bit of a tug. And to Mike’s horror, Bonnie let go of him and let him fly upside down! “WhooOOHNO-”

Abby gasped and held her stomach as she bursted out laughing.

Mike felt his bangs fall above his head as he struggled to come to terms with being upside down. Great…Looks like the animatronics were just toying with him at this point.

“Abs, please…” Mike said, looking at her upside down. “What are they doing?” He asked, confused and worried. But his attention switched over to the fiddling and adjusting he felt against his shoe. “What-” Mike muttered as he curled himself up, attempting to see how his feet were being toyed with. “Hey! Stop that!” He ordered.

But Mike widened his eyes in horror the second he felt his shoe being slipped off his foot. SHIT!

“OHNO-?!” Mike started to panic as he heard the shoe fall to the ground. “Abby help!” Mike yelled as he pulled on his ankles and struggled to get himself right side up. “ABBY!” Mike held his arms out desperately.

Abby only giggled. “You are all gonna love this! His feet are so ticklish!” Abby told them excitedly.

Mike groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. “Abbyyyy…” Mike groaned.

“And don’t forget his piggies!” Abby teased.

“Abby-” Mike was growing somewhat impatient with his sister by this point.

“Though be careful with his toes. He might die if he’s tickled too much there.” She warned.

Heh…‘Be careful’...Hearing that was funny enough in its own right. At least she has the right of mind to tell them to at least be careful…

His breath hitched the moment he felt a fat finger on the arch of his socked left foot. He squeezed his eyes shut and covered his mouth with his hands. NO. They are NOT getting away with tickling him again. Nuh uh, no way. They can fight with him all they want to, but they will NEVER get a laugh out of him! Not now, not ever again.

Or so he thought…

Only one little flutter…right under his toes…was enough to make every bit of laughter burst out of him. The poor man threw his arms against his chest and leaned his head back slightly as every laugh he had bunched up in his lungs, had finally let themselves free. “GAHAHAHAHAhahahaha! Ohohokahay, okahahahayyyyy!” Mike yelled.

“YAY!” Abby declared, laughing alongside him.

Mike put his hands in praying position. “Yohohou got mehehehee! P-Plehehehease stohohop! Ihihihi’m lahahaughihihing ehenohohough!” He pleaded.

“Okay, let’s stop.” Abby told Chica.

Chica moved its fingers away, and looked at Abby for her next instruction.

Abby waited a few seconds, while listening to his brother breathe somewhat heavily from exhaustion. “You okay?” Abby asked.

Mike huffed and puffed a few more times. “Ihihi…Ihi’m okay…I’m good.”

“Do you need a break?” Abby asked.

“Thahat…would be nihice.” Mike admitted.

“Okay.” Abby replied. “How about…in a few more minutes?” Abby asked, looking at the animatronics. Mike nodded his head. A break sounded amazing right about now. Especially if…wait, did she say ‘in a few minutes’?

“Okay go!” Abby suddenly told Chica.

Mike’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. “Wait WHA-”

Mike shrieked as the fat fingers started tickling him all over again. He couldn’t even hold in his laughter this time, instead just letting it fall out of him. “BAAAHAHAHAhahAHAhahaha!” Mike cackled, shocked by the sudden tickles against the ball of his foot. When he finished his fit, Mike took in a breath and squealed in a rather high-pitched voice before falling into another fit of cackles. “Plehehehehehease! HAHahahaha! Ihihit’s toohoohoohoo ticklihihish!” He told Abby.

“So ticklish you can’t remember your right from left?”

“HEHEhehehehe- Yehehehehesss!” He replied.

Abby walked closer to Mike and started poking and tickling his sides. “How about now?”

Mike jumped and grunted, grasping at his sister’s hands, laughing slightly harder. This is the most Abby has touched him, let alone tickled him, in quite a long time. And though he was technically in a very vulnerable position right now, there were much worse scenarios to be stuck in.

“Alright. Let’s stop for real this time.” Abby told Chica.

Chica stopped its fingers.

“Can you flip him the right way, Chica?” Abby asked.

Chica lowered its body down and placed its hands under Mike to help pick him up. “ooOKAY…” Mike felt as Chica grabbed under his arms and nodded to Bonnie. With that nod, Bonnie let go of Mike’s feet and let them drop. “Okay- OW.” He yelped as his foot inevitably hit Bonnie’s leg. “Ohokay.” He muttered. Chica lowered Mike down till his feet were touching the ground. “Thank you…” He huffed and attempted to pull himself together. “Not…sure how I feel about you being able to lift me so easily…” Mike admitted. Chica removed his fingers, accidentally tickling his armpit one more time. This made Mike jump snicker one last time.

Abby shrugged her shoulders and smiled. “That wasn’t too bad, was it?” Abby asked.

Mike turned to his sister…and slowly gave her a devious smile. “Get over here, you ticklish tattle-tale!” He declared, picking her up and skittering his fingers all over her ribs and belly. “Tick-a-tick-a-tick-a-tick-a-tickle~!” He teased, using toddler-like teases so he could further torment her.

“MIHIHIKE- HAHAhahahaha! NAHAHA- SOHOHORRYYYY!” She shouted.

“Sorry’s not gonna cut it, Abs.” He teased. “You understood exactly what they were doing, and didn’t bother to tell me all of it.” He moved his fingers to her belly button, earning him a high-pitched squeal. “AND you couldn’t keep your mouth shut about how ticklish I am!” He added. “You’re a little menace who deserves to laugh just as much as I did.” He told her.

“NAAAAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOT MY BEHEHELLY BUTTOHOHOHON!” She pleaded.

“What belly button?” He asked innocently. “I didn’t know you had a belly button! Let me see!” Mike picked her up bridal style and blew a raspberry onto her belly button.

Abby squealed and screamed with laughter as the raspberry filled her belly, before stopping. He lowered her sister down, and continued to hold her bridal style. Abby was still a bit of a giggly mess despite not being tickled for nearly as long. He put her down onto her feet. “There. Should we make it a tie?” He asked, holding his hand up.

Abby nodded her head and gave him a high five. With that set in motion, Mike started to collect his stuff and take Abby out to the car. Funnily enough, the animatronics had tickled him up until his shift had ended.

And by the time Mike had pulled into the driveway, Abby was sound asleep against the car door with a mauve blanket being used as a pillow.

#possessed animatronics #meeting the classic animatronics #protective mike schmidt #abby schmidt is a menace #ticklefic #ler!animatronics #switch!mike #switch!abby #they just want to play #fnaf movie spoilers

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guy-busleeness · 4 months

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I was bored and was in desperate need for ler!Mike’s alters

Sooo….lee!Mani

Poor guy..

#tickle art #total drama tickle #ler!mike #ler!svetlana #ler!mal #ler!vito #poor mani tbh #like imagine four people tickling you at the same time #and they’re ALL going for your worst spots #lee!manitoba

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icannotthinkofagoodname1 · 4 months

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I need to take Mike away from the majority of Byler shippers until they learn how to actually understand him as a character…

#Mileven #stranger things #I will soon be writing basically a 2000 word post on this #some of the stuff I’ve read recently is. wow #anti b*ler #I’m hoping I’ve used the right tags #I hate their posts in the mileven tag so I don’t want to do the same #:)#el #eleven #Mike wheeler #Mike

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fluffyficsanddreams · 6 months

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When was the last time you smiled?

It was the early afternoon at the Schmidt household, bright sunlight pouring in from the windows and into the living room where Mike and Abby were sitting. Abby, of course, was drawing yet another picture on the coffee table seated on the floor. Mike was dozing on the couch, in and out of sleep as he was still recovering from last night’s shift. The girl looked up momentarily to look at her sleeping brother, noticing the heavy darkness that hung underneath his eyes. She exhaled, not entirely sure of how to help him in any way.

After a few more minutes, she felt her stomach growling with hunger and she wasn’t sure of how to make any food for herself. Abby stood and stepped to her brother’s side, gently shaking his shoulder. “Mike?” She asked.

He grumbled in response, shifting on the couch and turning his head away. Why’d she have to bother him now, when he was finally able to get some peaceful sleep?

Abby huffed and prodded him in the arm repeatedly, to which Mike didn’t budge. She was only met with annoyed grunts, growls and grumbles.

Or, at least, that was until she accidentally missed his arm and poked him in the side. Mike jumped and actually *squeaked*, moving away from his sister as his eyes fluttered open. “Abby.. don’t…” He growled, clamping his arms to his sides as he slowly woke himself up to guard himself from his now mischievous sister.

Abby smiled and continued to prod and poke him in the side as soon as she realized what was happening. Mike covered his face with his hands, hiding his slowly spreading wobbly smile as he stifled chuckles. “Abby..” He growled through clenched teeth, giggling breaking through his tough facade. His sister continued nonetheless, now moving her little hands to his abdomen, which caused the man to curl in on himself and fall into low giggling that he was clearly trying to hide. “St—stohohop..” Mike tried to warn, punctuated by strangely adorable laughter. “I don’t remember the last time I saw you smile.” Abby commented, crawling on top of her brother to scribble her small fingers between his ribs. Mike let out a squeak and fell into a fit of not-so-tired-anymore laughter. He was definitely awake at this point as he struggled to stifle his loud laughter threatening to pour out. “Staahp! Abby!” He arched his back to high heaven as he buried his face in his hands, shoulders bobbing with strong laughter. He was trying so hard not to throw her off, while also trying not to give his sister what she wanted.

“Mikeeeey, you have to just let go!” Abby giggled, trying to get him to uncover his face while also still jabbing her fingers into his side. The man snorted in the middle of his laughing, his face flushing a shade of red as he did so. “ABBS-! Thihis isn’t fUHUnny!” Mike protested, eventually flipping his sister off of him and onto the couch cushion. He heaved for breath, his face still flushed as he wiped a little bit of sweat from his forehead. “You’re such a tease..” He chuckled, poking Abby in the side. Though he wouldn’t admit it, Mike did feel a lot happier now… and he enjoyed being tickled at the end of the day. He needed the laughs.

And… he found himself making mac and cheese 10 minutes later.

#sfw tickle community #tickle fic #lee!mike #ler!abby #fluff #siblings #fnaf movie tickles #fnaf tickles #mike schmidt #short fic

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thisisvalid3 · 3 months

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My birthday was last week and the Duffers really came through and gave ME, gave US the greatest gift of all. The Will content we all deserve after an eternity of waiting. Much love to the By's and to the Ler's. Let's fucking get it 🗣🗣👏👏👏

#byler #stranger things #will byers #mike wheeler #byler endgame #mike x will #will byers revealed #love to the bys and to the lers

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musicalchaos07 · 9 months

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#Before you come for me I could only add 10 things!#I should make it a tournament #Even though I know who the winner is gonna be but I wanna see if they solo or if there's a runner-up #Stranger Things #Polls #Will Byers #Mike Wheeler #Lucas Sinclair #Dustin Henderson #El Hopper #El Hopper Byers #Joyce Byers #Jonathan Byers #Nancy Wheeler #the party #I am purposely not tagging b*ler bc I want everyone to have a fair shot #at first

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runninguplenorahills · 1 year

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Ooohhhhh the block button of people saying that Will deserves better than Mike looks so good 😍

#please stfu #this is byler #by-ler #ler as in wheeler as in mike wheeler #we’re here for him too #will deserves mike and mike deserves will #because they both deserve the best and they’re the best for each other #and they want each other!#mike wheeler protection squad #byler

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daisys-silliness · 11 months

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Tickle monsters are evil when they work together amirite

#daisy chats #daisy doodles #sp tickles #south park tickle #south park tickles #lee!tweek #ler!henrietta #ler!mike #ler!craig

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cringemesstickles · 7 months

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Tickly Kisses

(TickleTober Day 22: Ticklish Kisses)

Summary: Mike attacks Will with kisses

Pairing: Byler

Word Count: 728

A/N: the amount of byler tword content is scarce so I thought I’d contribute. Idk man they’re too cute :’)

———————————————————

The sun was setting in Hawkins Indiana, casting a golden hue through the youngest Byers’ window.

Lots of change had taken place over the course of the year, some bad, some good; one of the good changes however, was the new relationship between Will Byers and Mike Wheeler.

Today, the two lovebirds sat in Will’s bedroom, Mike flipping through an old comic book while Will sat at his desk, engrossed in his current artistic project. Though they were both doing separate activities, they were together and that’s all that they needed.

After awhile of sitting in comfortable silence, Mike started to feel bored, looking over at his boyfriend who was lost in his own world of creativity.

Getting an idea, he closed his comic book and carefully set it aside, hopping up from the bed and slowly making his way towards the unsuspecting artist.

When he reached his destination, he waited for Will to put down his pencil, not wanting to risk ruining the project by causing him to slip.

When the brunette set his pencil aside in favor of reaching for a marker, Mike put his plan into motion.

Before the boy could grab his marker, his boyfriend spun the chair around to face him, eliciting a sharp gasp from the Byers.

“Mike, you scared me- hey! Mihihike!” Any words that he tried to get out were cut off by the feeling of soft lips against his neck, peppering the skin with loving - and ticklish - kisses.

“What? I’m just showing you how much I love you.” Said the taller boy, smiling against the skin.

This comment caused Will’s cheeks to take on a rosy tint, and he was kind of glad that Mike couldn’t see it from his position.

“I-I love you tohohohohoo, but that tickles!” He giggled, hands resting on his boyfriend’s shoulders, head tipped back to welcome the affection, despite his protests.

Mike had known that Will was tickling LONG before they started dating.

He’d always tickle his - at the time - friend when he needed a pick me up or when he just seemed like he could use a good laugh, and the shorter boy never seemed to mind; he’d squirm around but would never make any attempts to escape and sometimes, albeit rarely, he’d get the courage to ask for the playful attention.

It was one of those things that made him love Will even more.

“Mike, plehehehease!”

The brunette squirmed in his seat, halfheartedly trying to dislodge his lover from his sensitive neck, which was starting to turn pink as well.

Mike started to laugh as well, the sound vibrating against Will’s skin and making it tickle more.

“I can’t help it, you’re too adorable!” He teased, continuing his barrage of ticklish kisses.

Will, though starting to reach his limit, couldn’t help the euphoria that had overcome him.

The reality of someone he loved for so long loving him back was just setting in and he couldn’t be happier, and he let himself continue to laugh and melt away into the silly moment.

“Am nohohohot! Eek- plehehease!”

The taller boy was about to relent, but then he realized there was one more thing left to do.

“Okay okay, one more thing and then I’m done…” He assured, letting Will catch his breath for a moment.

The brunette’s eyes flickered with curiosity and a trace of excitement.

“And what would thAHAHA- MIHIHIKE NO!” He squealed, childlike laughter following suit as Mike blew a sharp raspberries in the crook of his neck, sending ticklish shocks through his whole body.

“M-MIKE, CAN’T BREHEHEHEATHE!!”

At those words, the Wheeler immediately pulled away, not wanting to overwhelm his boyfriend.

He watched the artist recuperate from the tickly attack, eyes filled with love and affection.

Not missing a beat, he leaned in to connect their lips, locking them both in a soft, tender kiss.

When they pulled away, they shared a look of mutual infatuation.

“I love you, even when you torture me with tickles…” Will smiled, bashfully averting his gaze.

Mike laughed and pulled the shorter boy up from his chair, guiding them both to the bed.

“If you really love me, you’ll take a break from the paper and engage in some cuddle time~” He grinned cheekily, earning a chuckle from Will.

“Deal… but no more tickles!”

With a heart full of love, Mike smirked.

“No promises.”

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kanene-yaaay · 3 months

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The Cat and the Hare (I won't stop running so don't you stop trying to catch me)

Kanene's notes: EVERYONE WAKE UPPPP BECAUSE TODAY IS @squeaky-n-blushy 's BIRTHDAYYYYY and since she and I have a clown to clown communication and a lot of screaming around Pac and Cellbit I wanted to make a fic to celebrate this day and our friendship. Thanks a lot, bean, for being so cool!! <3 <3

And about the fic I am so Unwell about Pac and Cellbit's friendship like WHAT IS EVEN HAPPENING HERE YA KNOW??

Warnings: Uhh, I don't think there is any? There is a few mentions of hunting and prey but it's lighthearted and not too prevalent on the fic. Ticklish!Pac and Ler!Cellbit for the win. Around 8.000 words :D

[~*~]

Mike knows, of course.

Sometimes Pac wondered if his soulmate was able to realize what was happening even before he himself did. It was one of the perks and pains of spending your entire life with someone who you could trust blindly with everything that could ever matter and who you knew as the palm of your own hand.

It was quite nice, most of the time.

Except, of course, when Mike decided that he was going to be an insufferable prick about it.

“Não, não, não. Tá na hora de acabar com essa palhaçada.” (No, no, no. Time to end with this bullshit.) The annoyed shout was so out of nowhere that it almost made Pac fall from the roof of the Barbie house, turning to look at the other who was pointing at him with a hammer and seemed two seconds away from hitting him with it. “ ‘Fi, você vai lá falar com ele agora mesmo.” (Dude, you’re going to talk with him right now.)

Pac ignored how his cheeks already began prickling with heat, knowing in the same moment what the other was talking about.

Shit, his feelings must have leaked through their soulbond.

“Qué que ‘cê tá falando, moço, tô sabendo desse negócio que ‘cê tá falando aí não uai.” (Whatcha ya talkin’ about, dude, don’t have any idea watcha you talkin about.)

“Num tá sabendo, é? Não tá sabendo, mas vai começar a saber agora e não adianta ficar me imitando não.” (Dunno, uh? You may not know but you’re going to start knowing right now and mimicking me won’t help you at all.)

Oof, he was with that determined look. There was no escaping for Pac in this one. Mike turned around, got a ladder and climbed it. He ignored the phantom feeling of bubbly giggles that definitely weren’t his began tickling the back of his throat joyfully.

“Porque,” Mike continued. “Se eu tiver que ver o Cellbit mais uma vez e ficar com vontade de ficar dando risadinha que nem o nosso menininho, eu vou explodir esse Murder Mystery todo.” (Because, if I have to see Cellbit one more time and keep wanting to giggle like our little boy I’m going to blow up the entire Murder Mystery)

“Não, Mike!” (Mike, no!)

“ ‘Não, Mike’, nada! Eu vou, Pac. Vou explodir toda essa bagaceira aqui. Quer ver, hein? Quer ver?” (‘Mike, no’, my ass. I’m going to, Pac. I’m going to blow up all this clownery. Wanna see, huh, wanna see?)

“Explode aí então que eu quero ver. Bora, bora, que se dane já isso tudo!” (Yeah, blow it up, then, I wanna see. Let’s go, let’s go. To hell with all of this!)

Both of them stared at each other, Mike with the explosives on his hands and Pac with wide attentive eyes.

Silence passed like a lazy cat across them.

“Eu não, ‘cê tá louco, é? Mó trabalho que deu pra construir essa arena aqui e eu vou lá explodir ela agora.” (No, didya lost ya mind? So much work to build this arena, no way I’m blowin’ it up now.)

The one with blue hoodie crackled, muscles relaxing from being ready to sprint and steal all the tnt before his soulmate could use it in case it wasn’t a joke. Mike’s own laughter also followed his, getting closer until he was sitting by his side in a relaxed manner, green eyes watching him behind his crooked lens.

“Então, você quer que eu te faça cócegas?” (So, you want me to tickle you?)

His tune was nonchalant and Pac could literally feel how chill he was with his own words, perhaps even a little amused with the floating, excited butterflies that immediately appeared on their soulbond with his question.

The fact that Pac loved being tickled and to tickle his friends hadn’t been a secret between them for a long while, now. Had been discovered when they were just two little kids against the world in that orphanage and discussed in a late night whispered conversation in their first prototype of a laboratory.

Mike knew that when, for some reason or not, he would suddenly get giddy, a little shy and a bunch more playful, carrying a giggle on the tip of his tongue and an electricity on his skin, it meant that Pac would love to get into a tickle fight or to become a mess of snickers as Mike kept sneaking the words ‘cócegas’ and ‘cosquinhas’ in their daily interactions and throwing at him one or two pokes of fun.

“Hm, quero dizer… você pode?” (Hm, I mean… you can?)

He scratched the back of his head and avoided his eyes. The one wearing a green creeper shirt squinted at him. That wasn’t Pac usual “I’m feeling too embarrassed and silly but also excited to look at you right now”, it was more like his “uhhh, not sure how to say that you’re wrong uhhh.”

Mike sighed and crossed his arms. He was not going to move from there until this was solved and he knew Pac was fully aware of this by the way the other pouted in defeat.

“Bora, fala logo, Pac.” (C’mon, spit it out, Pac.)

“Você lembra de semana passada, quando o Roier e o Cellbit estavam esperando pela gente na Ordo Theoritas?” (Remember last week when Roier and Cellbit were waiting for us in Ordo Theoritas?)

Mike tried to. Cellbit was a solid part of his family - even if he would have no qualms in immediately calling him out of his bullshit if he showed even a trace of coming back to that asshole he was on the prison - and he really liked Roier a lot but those two were so insufferably in love and happily married when they were together that it was hard to not roll his eyes at it. I mean, he gets it! He was too happily married but you wouldn’t see him around the Spawn or the entire island getting all lovey doey with Mine at every second of their day.

(The fact that Mine was a goodness and that their connection had been difficult and faulty since the first day they got stuck on the island was simply a detail and no, he didn’t want to talk about it.)

Last week has been when the detective found some interesting information in an old abandoned laboratory of the Federation and called everyone for a meeting since it looked like it had potential to be about the eggs or the codes, if Mike wasn’t mistaken. Since he and Pac were around the Favela finishing some buildings at the time, they were the first to get there, finding the meeting room being already occupied by Cellbit and Roier in the middle of a tickle fight, - probably a started by Roier but which Cellbit was clearly winning - probably because they weren’t expecting anyone to appear so soon but also seemed to be too lost in their own silliness to even listen to the sound of the elevator or them arriving.

Mike just loudly complained and threw a few grinning teases at them, not thinking too much about it. Albeit, as it seems, that had been enough to bring Pac’s lee mood back to life.

“Lembrei.” (I remember.)

They looked at each other. Since his hands wouldn’t be necessary, the one with permanently crooked glasses started messing around with the redstone system of the house, trying to fix it for the sixth time. “Bem, isso explica porque é sempre o Cellbit, então. ‘Cê vai pedir pra ele?” (Well, that explains why it’s always Cellbit, then. Are you going to ask him?)

Pac grumbled and flooped on the roof. “Não dá, eu já tentei. Fui tentar puxar uma guerra de cosquinha perto dele com o Richas mas eu travei e no fim eles foram embora. Eu não consigo, Mike, eu não consigo!” (I can’t, I already tried. I tried to start a tickle war next to him with Richas but I froze and in the end they went away. I can’t, Mike, I can’t!)

“Mas tu tem que tomar coragem, Pac. Tem que ir lá e falar mesmo. Se fosse eu, eu falava!” (But you need to be braver, Pac! Gotta get there and ask. If it was me, I would ask.)

“Falava é? Porque eu me lembro muito bem do seu primeiro encontro com a Mine…” (You would, yeah? Because I remember very well about your and Mine’s first date…) Pac’s laughter quickly transformed into a shout when the other pushed him, making him roll across the titles for a few centimeters before stopping. “Tu vai me jogar, homi! Tá doido, é?” (You’re going to make me fall, man! Are you crazy?)

“Sempre fui, sempre fui.” (Always have been. Always have been.)

They chuckled and, in between shoves and jokes, went back to their construction.

Pac thought that the subject had ended there, then, that he would eventually get over his mood and continue his life. But he should’ve known that Mike was too annoying (caring) to let it go.

That was how he ended up like this.

Pac looked up, looking at those brown eyes shine back at him with a mischievous light. He squirmed a bit, but soon it was clear that he was totally trapped on the couch by the investigator’s body, who kept watching his expressions with curiosity and a hint of something else.

(It was hunger. Pac would recognize that glint anywhere.)

The scientist could feel each heartbeat in his chest and every butterfly flying on his stomach, small bolts of electricity scurrying away from his trapped wrist, fingertips twisting, almost being able to touch the sparkles in the air.

“Pac,” there were moments when Cellbit slipped and let one or two of his feline traits escape from his firmly constructed barrier. This time, it was in the way that his voice curled around his name, in a mix of a pleased purring and a warning growl that made a zing shot through his spine. “There’s no need to look so worried, I think you just didn't listen to my question very well in the first time… What is the code, Pac?”

If he wasn’t looking at his friend, he would’ve lost it, but the question was exactly what it looked like: an escape route. It was in the way that the hold of his right wrist loosened a little and how those brown eyes ran across his face - searching, poking, prodding, wanting to know - on the look for any trace of discomfort or fear, getting ready to jump away in the same second if he found anything. Pac was sure that he could just spill the eight numbers he knew by heart and then Cellbit would immediately get up, open the security door to the last phase of their puzzle and let him free to go.

Simple like that.

Quite boring, if he was being honest.

Pac grinned before letting his head fall slightly to the side, brows furrowing in a perfect confused face, voice light and just a tad too innocent.

(He wasn’t really afraid.)

(Cellbit could show himself to be as strong and ruthless as he wanted. Pac always had been the fastest one.)

(Just one of them had been able to get out of Alcatraz after all.)

“ Code? W-what are you talking about, Cellbit? I don’t know any code.”

“The specific numbers that will open the door and let me finally get to the bottom of the mystery that I’ve been puzzling out for one entire week. That code, Pac.”

A small shudder took over his body, whether it was for the lack of his hoodie or the hand that suddenly came to dangerously rest on his side, it wasn’t clear. A wobbly smile blossomed in his face.

That reaction didn’t go unnoticed by the other.

“Uhhh…” Pac pursed and popped his lips, resting his head on the cushions and looking at the ceiling, gaze quickly jumping across the room in a nervous manner. He still could feel those glimmering eyes on him. “I don’t really know any code.”

The fingers began curling on his side, short nails barely scratching the skin, he bit his lower lip.

“You sure?”

(Can I?)

“Y-yeah! I d-don’t even know what you’re talking about, moço. Just saw a sign that said ‘Free Food’ and got in the warplate and boom! Suddenly I’m here with you. We’re both kind of stuck here, you know?” His gaze went back to focus on the other, refusing with all his might to even acknowledge the twitching hand on his side that kept bringing awful tingles and freaking out the butterflies on his belly.

He continued the rest of his sentence in one quick breath.

“It’s not like I am part of the puzzle and was asked to guard the secret code that could lead you to finally getting your final prize since it’s the end of the investigation and deciding to not give it to you. That would be totally crazy. I would never do that. Never, ever, in one billion years. Nuh uh. Nunquinha.”

Cellbit’s left eye trembled in a signal of poorly disguised stress. Bad and Bagi had the same habit. It was quite funny to see.

Pac jumped when the touch suddenly got firmer and a pinch was delivered on his torso. A high pitched squeak quickly scrambled from his lips before he could stop it.

Having already gotten the reaction that he wanted, Cellbit showed him a smile.

Oh no, he was absolutely screwed.

“Alright, Pac. I believe in what you’re saying. You’re part of the family so you would never lie to me, would you?”

The scientist watched as Cellbit’s hand lifted up from its spot on his side and began going upwards, slowly crawling along his torso until it stopped on his forearm, tracing on his skin as the other hand kept his arm all trapped and nice above his head.

His fingertips started dancing and scribbling on the spot, following the goosebumps that tried to run away from the tickles, spreading across his nerves and obliging Pac to firmly press his lips in a thin line, giggles getting ready to jump out at any chance on the tip of his tongue.

The investigator cleaned his throat, calling his attention once again and holding it with analytical eyes. His voice came out rough, slow, savoring every word. “Would you, Pac?”

Pac was glad that he didn’t even try to open his mouth to answer him because, as soon as the sentence was over, those fingers began scribbling on the senseless, ticklish spot that was his inner elbow, nails scraping and fingertips tapping in an absurdly light and soft manner, making a muffled ‘eee’ sound to be present in the back of his throat.

He remembered that he had an answer to give.

“Nuh huh.” He shook his head twice, holding his breath to not let any other reaction escape.

“Ok.”

Eventually, Pac had to look away from him again. He could almost feel how Cellbit kept mapping out the exact points where his smile got bigger and his arm squirmed everytime another unexpected tickle spot was found so he could come back to it later. The tapping continued its way across his biceps, drawing abstract forms on it, taking its sweet to collect all the muffled titters and small twitches before going to the next one. With each step the curious hand got closer and closer to his torso.

His attempt to not look at his demise proved to be fool and only made him lose the way that the investigator’s smirk grew wider at each one of his reactions, fingers momentarily spasming in a desire to dig - quick, ruthless and precise - on any and every ticklish spot again and again and again until he could rip that sweet, precious laughter from his stubborn friend-prey-Pac-fun and make it ring loud and free around the room. Until his protests were so intertwined with snickers and snorts that they would be too lost and make no sense at all. Until he was so high in laughter and giddy with the tickling that he wouldn’t even be able to think about hiding his smile and blush - which, by the way, had already begun consuming his neck in a lovely, lovely way - on his hoodie as usual.

He wanted to discover every sound that he would make and drink on every variation of his laughter, from the lowest chortle to the highest squeal. And, especially, he wanted to purr and tease him about how, even with all the chances, Pac didn’t even try to move his free hand to stop him and was instead watching his every move with those wide excited, joyful eyes.

But no. Cellbit needs to be patient. He needs to first cultivate every giggle, snicker and titter until they were too strong to be stopped and then, after weakening his every barrier so they would finally crumble at the lightest breeze and finally come tumbling down with just the hint of his moving fingers anywhere near him and his ticklish - so, so wonderfully vulnerable and ticklish - spots.

Cellbit could be really good at that. Being patient. Stalking. Watching. Finding openings that could be explored.

(It has been a while since he and Pac had time to play like this.)

The traces and drawed forms continued until he got to his armpit and rested there. Tapping. Tapping. Tapping.

At this point Pac already felt like jumping out of his skin at every touch. He was torn between watching his slow and inevitable destruction or closing his eyes and then be bombarded by his own creative mind about all the different ways that his friend could tickle him right now. How he could simply give up from calmly teasing and prying his puffed squeaks or bitten gasps at any moment and just drum his fingers on his pit, maybe pull a surprise attack to his ribs or even keep the slow spidering until Pac felt so ticklish that a single wiggling finger would make him descend in immediate full belly laughter with minimal effort.

Cellbit’s next words were fast to pull him from his thoughts.

“Where is your worst spot, Pac?”

It was getting old, but once again Pac just shook his head.

“What? You don’t have one? Or you don’t want to tell me where is it?” The hands started swirling, creating spirals that went from the inside to the outside of his armpit. Cellbit watched in true amazement how such a soft touch made the other’s cheeks puff with the amount of squeals he was holding, his arm now trembling in his grip. “You know… I’m feeling like you’re hiding a few secrets from me. Are you, Pac?”

It took every single ounce of will from him, but the scientist pushed every and any giggle deep down so he would not look completely silly when the sentence left out his mouth, not really thinking too much about it.

“Aren’t you our Favela’s detective? Why don’t you find out?”

Cellbit froze, just like Pac’s breath when he realized what he just said.

However, it was too late.

“I am joking! I am joking!” He shouted, watching with a wide stare as the other chuckled in delight at his answer. Low and dangerous. Always ready for a good, fun challenge. “You know how it is! Dumb Pac just being dumb again!”

“You’re not dumb.” Cellbit frowned, but it disappeared as soon as it came, a determined, amused expression taking over his face once again. “That’s fair enough, I think. So, what about we make a deal? I will discover your worst tickle spot and then destroy it with tickles until you give me the code to finish my puzzle.”

The swirling was back once again. Soft, unbearable, light and impossible to ignore.

“Deal?”

“...Deal.”

The detective rolled his shoulders and neck, as if preparing for a battle. “Perfect.”

A quick, small tweak on his armpit ripped a surprised snort from his mouth, which immediately made the scientist’s free hand fly to hide it, not expecting the sudden tickling nor the sound.

“Careful there, bonitinho. Don’t go spilling everything already. I would hate for our game to end so soon.”

His hand went back to spidering, teasing the armpit for a few more seconds before going down to his ribs, scratching and watching as Pac turned his face around, pressing it firmly on his own shoulder, the blush fastly consuming more and more of him.

There was this horrible spot in that space between his back and ribs. Mike found it when they were kids and Pac didn’t know why, but it tickled like hell, so, in the very second that Cellbit’s fingers did as much as faintly graze it, his body immediately rolled away in an attempt to hide it.

Cellbit’s eyes shone and he wormed his hand between the cushions and his torso, legs firmly preventing him from trying to roll even more as curious pokes assaulted the spot, making him arch his back and trash back to the other side, shoulders bouncing with trapped laughter. This didn’t stop the investigator from scribbling closely by the spot, no longer prodding or actually tickling it, just testing his reactions by tracing his nails carefully around and in an X over it. As if he was marking it for future reference.

“One.”

The way that the whisper echoed in Pac’s mind did not resonate with how calmly and low it was said. Before he could think too much about its meaning, however, another question quickly followed it.

“Do you know how many ribs there are in the human body?”

The scientist, a very skilled profissional able to create the wildest substances and built the craziest buildings, actually blamed how giddy and distracted by the tickling he was for his answer.

“Twelve!”

“Pffft!”

The investigator’s surprised wheeze filled the room and suddenly Pac knew that he would never be able to live this down for the next years, Cellbit’s entire face opening in a feral joy as if Pac just gave him an early birthday gift.

“Exactly. That is the correct answer. Twelve.” He replied, clearly trying to not laugh and putting on a serious face, again. He let go of his wrist. “Why don’t we count it together now, so we can confirm how right you are?”

Before Pac could answer, Cellbit pressed his fingers, two in each side, on his highest ribs and tased.

Maybe it was the teasing. Maybe it was how much sensitive his skin felt after so many minutes of light touches and soft tickles or how the sudden series of ticklish shocks ran fastly across his every nerve. Maybe it was the way his entire torso now seemed to be just one giant tickle spot. However, that move made Pac slam his hands to hold on Cellbit’s shoulders so his arms wouldn’t come and pin the attacking, tickly fingers against his body.

That only made Cellbit double his efforts to make him laugh, teases immediately permating Pac’s mind.

“Afraid of trapping my fingers here, bonitinho? Why? You’re not even really trying to stop me. Don’t you want them to keep tickling and tickling and tickling your ribs? Right in that delicious spot right here?” Cellbit pressed, buzzing taking over his senses and filling his lungs with uncontrollable crackles that made his torso shake with the force to contain them, wiggling non stop from one side to another and legs flailing around, all which only seemed to reinforce Cellbit’s determination.

“No way! Is it really that ticklish, Pac? Tell me, is my hunt already over, huh? Did I already find your worst ticklish spot or are you just pretending to stop me from going looking for more? I wonder if all the other spots will be as bad as this one… But that is fine. It only means that we will have to stay here for hours and hours, experimenting and comparing every single one of them until we can finally decide which one is the worst. Unless you decide to tell me. That will make things go so much faster, don’t you think?”

He went to his next rib, giving it the same amount of attention and care as the previous one, scratches pursuing the entirety of the bone, tasing targeting the spaces in between them, quick scribbles concentrating on the places that made his kick his legs harder in a way to expel all the adrenaline racing across his cells, tiny squeals pushing against his lips with fervor.

“Or maybe you’re just that ticklish. A ticklish, little gigglebug. So, so sensitive and yet you still came and walked so wingfully right to my… claws.” The last part came out as an almost whisper, his sentence growing lower and lower to the end.

Pac didn’t mean to, but in that moment Cellbit jumped to his third rib and his barrier broke. Loud, crackling laughter exploding from his mouth in a melody that took over the entire room in the very same second, drowning every other sound and making Cellbit almost lose his concentration, tickling faltering for half moment as he was hit with… everything.

With how big Pac’s smile was and how his blush seemed to climb over his neck and ears to pool on his face, how he threw his head backwards when he laughed and the fact that he was actually right because the scientist was too concentrated on the tickle attack and on keeping his hands locked on his shoulder that, for once, he didn’t even try to cover his face.

Cellbit felt himself in a kind of a daze as he kept tickling his loud-friend-prey-fun-fun-fun! Each spot receiving all the scribbling and buzzing before he jumped to another, watching as Pac grew crazier and crazier with each second.

His laughter didn’t necessarily get louder, but it took a turn from the wheezy, high pitched, hysterical crackles on the highest ribs to a much more uncontrollable giggling the lower he went.

Pac squirmed and arched his back, a move that only managed to give Cellbit much more places to work with. He successfully got a few snorts and squeals when that happened and he took the opportunity to worm his hands under his black shirt and spider them on his lower back, making the scientist slam his back again on the couch and bring the tickling back to his ribs, which would then make him kick and wiggle again until another chance to attack his back would appear and Cellbit would gladly take it.

And he. kept. his hands. on his shoulders.

It took everything from him, Pac was sure, but he kept his grip firm, his mind being totally taken over by how much it tickled and everything else all at once. The dance and wiggling happening across his torso, the smug smirk on Cellbit’s face, the awe that took over his brown eyes when he began laughing, the prickle of heat on his warm cheeks and even the light touch of his own hair on his neck that kept sending silly, funny tingles through his nerves to his soul, leading the giggles to get giddier and his snickers to become more present in his laughter.

When the detective got to his lower ribs, light pinching and then drumming his fingers there, between the unintelligible words that fell like waterfall from his lips Pac was able to push a single giggly plea amidst his senseless protests.

“Cellbit!”

The other immediately froze. Pac took the opportunity to take big gulps of air, trying and failing in not succumbing into more laughing fits during the process.

At the second time that the scientist tried for the second to recompose himself and fell into more giggling Cellbit’s fingers twitched, wanting to make that sound ring once more across the room. Still, he didn’t go back to tickling him, aware that his friend indeed was a common human who needed plenty of oxygen to survive.

He blinked and realized that his own grin was almost as big as his prey- Pac. As Pac’s grin was.

(He didn’t run away. He didn’t stop him. He didn’t fight back. Or shouted. Or hated him. He just laughed and laughed and laughed and Cellbit was the main reason for that. For that smile. Those excited eyes watching him right now. The joy. Even if it was a bit artificial, he was the one who did it.)

(He wasn’t quite sure what he would be able to do just to listen to his name being laughed out loud as this again.)

(He was… happy.)

Pac startled when another sound followed the last of his dying giggles. It was a low, almost inaudible, rumbling purr which, if it wasn’t the light feeling of trembling on Cellbit’s shoulders, he would never ever realize that it was coming from his friend.

Before his brain could properly process this and then conjure a proper comment that could or not be a poke of fun - discreet enough that it wouldn’t be clear if he actually was talking about Cellbit’s feline traits or something else, - the detective voice cut the silence.

“Puts, would you look at that.” The feeling of the fingers crawling right back the top of his ribcage made him chortle and squirm, the tip of his fingers barely scraping his armpits. “I lost the count. Seems like we will have to start all over again, Pac. I need to keep up my part of the deal, afterall.”

“Espera!” (Wait!)

“One, two, three…”

He didn’t even try to stop his laughter this time, letting it fall from his lips freely. By the moment the counting ended he was already hysterically giggling just with the feeling of the other’s hands resting on his sides without moving, thumbs rubbing firm circles on his skin in a comforting manner that both made him want to melt and also kept a couple of stray snickers filling the air with the phantom tickles as he once again calmed down.

Pac stared at Cellbit’s brown eyes. There was something different there. Like, literally. But he couldn’t exactly purpoint what.

“Two.”

Another whisper.

Pac tensed, expecting another round of ‘counting your ribs’, although this time in an anatomically correct friendly version (how they got to the result that twelve was the actual correct answer a few seconds ago was a complete mystery to him since he was clearly very occupied dying in crackles) but the thumbs continued with their soft ministrations until he was back to melting, a low huff of laughter (and purring, however it seems like they’re both pretending to ignore that) leaving Cellbit’s mouth.

His fingertips began scribbling on the spot, fingers sometimes slipping under his shirt to scratch at the dip of his hips or on his trembling belly, making sharp intakes of breath to take over him as the scientist let go of the other’s shoulders to muffle his reactions, covering his face entirely.

“Just laugh already, Pac. We both know you want to.”

Cellbit began poking his sides, realizing that there was a lovely weak spot extremely close to his back that made Pac yelp and jump when he passed through it. So he took his sweet time to explore it, watching as a single poke on his right would make him trash to the left, where clawing fingers would be ready to excitedly squeeze his unprotected side over and over and over again until Pac eventually was able to squirm out of it and come right back to the soft, unbearable tickling of his other hand. His reactions dropped from kicking to shaking his head in protest as he kept holding all his titters and laughter inside, each second getting closer to break.

It was fine, though, Cellbit could wait.

Even so, he squinted his eyes at the other’s covered face, being prived from watching the moments when his mouth would become a straight line as he discovered a new tickly spot or how his eyes would instinctively close when his laughter grew stronger or how his smile increased when Cellbit would unexpectedly changed techniques, analyzing which one brought better results. The detective huffed in annoyment - Roier would call it pouting, but he wasn’t here so he was wrong - and added some more tweaks on Pac’s sides in protest, sulking way less when more and more muffled squeaks began appearing with each second.

He didn’t want to exactly pry Pac’s hands from where they were, especially because he would have to stop his attack for that and there just would be no fun in that. His prey-friend-family-joy was so, so close to laughing it out.

Although…

Having his eyes covered could prove to be a good opportunity for a surprise.

Cellbit began lowering his head, getting closer to the other’s extremely red ear, being careful to not let his beard tickle his neck - not yet, at least - to not alarm Pac of his plan. He made sure his voice had the lowest and roughest tune that he could make, letting his breath hit the skin freely.

“There is no reason for you to hold back your reactions like this from me, gigglebug. Besides, I mean, I thought we both felt the same about prisons and keeping stuff trapped, don’t we?”

Pac, honest to god, shrieked when he not only heard but actually felt how close Cellbit was, scrunching his neck in an attempt to make the buzzing tingles disappear, unsuccessfully.

“Well, then I guess I have no other option if you’re just going to try to keep all your snorts and hysterical snickers stuck inside when they should be free to rummage around. What is that phrase you and Mike are always saying, again?”

Pac finally gave up from trying to stop the other from talking so close to his ear and let go of his face to push him away, shiny eyes opening to stare at the huge, smug smirk on the detective’s face.

He didn’t know exactly why until a movement caught his gaze.

Cellbit’s hand was hovering right above him, slowly clawing as it lowered in the direction of his quivering belly. Senseless protests and pleas began stumbling in flocks from him, the scientist attempting with all his might to suck in his stomach so he wouldn’t immediately and ultimately die and still hold his giggles as much as he could.

“Wait, I remember, now!” The hand dug on his belly. “There is no impossible escape.”

Screeching laughter filled the entire space and seemed to only fuel’s the tickling more, Cellbit’s other hand joining the fun to drum on every single patch of skin available, scratching and poking fingers immediately unlocking all loud snorts and chortles as they unmercifully prodded and wiggled inside his bellybutton, adding even more to his laughter.

“There we are, bonitinho!” Cellbit’s happy shout probably held far too much pride for someone who managed to win such a childish challenge. But he didn’t care, immediately drinking the other’s reactions and comparing how different was Pac’s laughter when he tickled his belly - lower, less hysterical but seemingly stronger - from when he decided to shove his hands on his armpits and dig - higher, fast and wheezy. How his fast kicking became a dance of squirming when he went from his ribcage to his sides and how much relaxed the grip on his shoulders became - even if his face got much redder - when he went right back at attacking his neck and elbows with light scribbles. Or even how he instinctively descended into a silent laughter, full of hiccups and squeaks, everytime Cellbit targeted one of the sweet spots he mapped on his torso.

“Which one tickles more, Pac? When I attack your absurdly ticklish armpits” To help him to choose, Cellbit decided to demonstrate his question and scribble said spot, making Pac’s arms immediately slam down and a snickering fit to take place. “Or your very sensitive belly?” His adjectives were promptly proven true when he began clawing his stomach, inspiring more melodious laughter to appear.

“I don’t know! I don’t know!”

The other chuckled.

“You don’t know? Well, I’m sure you will be able to figure it out, eventually.” He lowered his head again, no longer stopping his beard from tickling the poor unprotected neck. A squeal was ripped from Pac’s throat and another attempt to hide his ear by squeezing it on his own shoulder was made. It only made the detective change from side to side, though, having way too much fun to be so easily dissuaded. “Don’t worry about it, though, we can stay here for as long as you want. For hours and hours, if needed, testing every spot, every technique, every tease until you can finally decide.”

Pac shook his head and let out some more senseless pleas in protest, too lost in his own laughter to even begin to properly respond. He rolled to his side, forcing Cellbit to go back to an upwards position, not without purposely rubbing his beard behind his ears and neck, and for a moment his lips parted, preparing to-

(No.)

With all the squirming his loose shirt moved enough to show some skin and Cellbit didn’t really think too much before skittering his fingers on the patch of his back again.

Pac yelped and slammed back on the cushions, quickly turning around and holding, a childlike, high pitched giggling flying freely from his lips.

Cellbit immediately froze.

(He didn’t try to stop him until now.)

“Wait, wait, Cellbit!”

The sentence was left incomplete as Pac snickered, bringing his hands (him) closer to his chest, still giggling even if the tickling had already stopped, eyes closed and smile going from one ear to another.

He looked relaxed. Content.

Cellbit furrowed his eyebrows. He already discovered the answer for his part of the deal. Pac’s worst spot was clear as any white shirt washed with a good dose of peroxide after a hard day, but there had been little funny details in his friend’s actions that pointed directly to one direction. That last reaction being his main hint.

Oh.

Cellbit gets it, now.

“Your worst spot isn’t your favorite one, right? That’s your back.”

Wide, expectant and excited, black eyes found his and something clicked just right in Cellbit’s brain. A predatory grin suppressed his previous thoughtful expression.

Pac didn’t deny it.

They were still in the game.

Pac was just so fun.

“Pac, Pac, Pac…” He tsks. “So you were actually hiding stuff from me.”

Easily freeing his hands from the loose grip, Cellbit observed as the scientist automatically began losing himself in sniggers, not even batting an eye when uncoordinated hands tried to grab his wrists again. He had an idea.

Pac yelped when two strong arms came and hugged him, all his protests coming to a halt with the sudden mix of soft embrace and firm restrain, leaving him frozen in confusion. The cushion at his side dipped as Cellbit put his weight on it and even if Pac’s brain began running a mile per hour he couldn’t get what his plan was here.

With a swift turn Cellbit lifted him from the sofa and rolled, his moves fast and precise - even if still a little clumsy, by the way that the detective let out a ‘oof’ sound when they fell back on the cushions and he hit the furniture, - successfully exchanging his position with Pac and, which is even more remarkable as the fingers that lightly pressed on the lovely space between his shoulderblades reminded him: leaving his entire back unprotected and open for any kind of silly, tickly attack.

“Gotcha, gigglebug.”

One hand began quickly scratching his neck as the other one skittered across his spine, wiggling on every bone until it reached his lower back, pinches, scribbles and scratches joyfully attacking the sensitive spot, exploring every part of it and immediately making his giggling grow up to a notch.

Pac shoved his face on the other’s neck, shoulders bouncing with each laughter as tiny sparks of electricity seemed to follow every one of Cellbit’s touches as they tickled and teased every and any available spot of his back, successfully trapping him in a mix of childlike, high pitched laughter and wheezy chuckles. It was a little maddening how all his muscles seemed to relax with the soft tickles as his fingertips lightly ran across his back only to instantly jump with jolts and surprised squeaks as a sudden poke or tazing was delivered right on the back of his ribs or on in between shoulderblades, increasing his laughter and pulling more and more snorts for a few seconds, just when the comforting touch would to come and take over again.

It was the most amazing, unbearable, awful, joyful trap he could imagine. Being locked on Cellbit’s firm yet gentle embrace, adrenaline running hot on his veins as the feeling of safe but in danger made all the sirens in his mind scream and a warm feeling of trust to pool into his soul. The way that he was unable to actively defend his favorite spot - how did Cellbit even discover it so quickly? - without giving his friend free access to more other places he could attck, but also knowing that just holding his hands would immediately stop him made Pac let himself go and giggle and snicker hysterically non stop.

Not to mention the literal feeling of the motor-like purr that was still present and also seemed to tickle him, his skin still feeling way too ticklish for all that buzzing. Especially since it seemed to only grow stronger every time that a special prodding on the base of his or a spidering on his upper back made him hug the detective closer.

Besides, Pac didn’t quite realize it, but with every hug he pressed his face more and more on Cellbit’s neck, his huffs and puffs of laughter resulting in shivers and wobbly smiles to escape from the detective as well.

They kept up that song and dance for a few more minutes until Cellbit got content after fishing all the wheezes, snorts, squeals and laughter he had stored, settling to massaging the nape of his neck as he calmed down. Still delivering one or two soft scribbles on the back of his ears from time to time to prevent him from falling asleep on top of him. Cellbit is still a very happily married man, afterall.

“Still alive there, dude?”

No answer. Cellbit began blinking quickly, suddenly realizing that the room seemed much more illuminated and detailed than when he first walked in, his mind instantly going back to focus on the enigma he was after now that the chase-hunt-play was over.

I mean, their deal.

(Where did that come from?)

“What is the code?”

Silence.

“Pac?”

Said one lifted himself from the hug, a giant smile on his face and a few unshed tears glistering in the corner of his eyes.

He suddenly wheezed when their eyes found each other, not expecting at all to see the full blown wide cat pupils staring right back at him.

The confused expression on Cellbit’s face only grew bigger as he continued to blink non stop, probably bothered by the light.

“Pfffff, me dá uns minutinhos aí, moço. A cat just got my tongue.” (Give me a few more minutes, bro.)

And then he immediately jumped away from the couch before the meaning of his words could fully sink in the other’s brain. He felt way too giddy after all the fun and playful tickles, with wobbly steps and gleeful chuckles twirling in the air.

“Pactw…” The underlying warning in his tone - together with a hunt-warn-catch thrill and, oh. my. god. Pac needed to tell this to the others like right now - made Pac yelp and hold his hands in rendition, lowering himself in what could be a preparation to run away or an attempt to look smaller.

“40028922!”

Cellbit kept staring at him, squinted eyes analyzing his every move and expression as usual. Sometimes Pac wondered what he found when he did this.

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not! That is really the code and by the way I don’t have anything to do with it! They just told me to keep it.” As the other continued to look at him in disbelief, he started doing the orange justice dance, singing. “40028922 é o funk do Yudi que vai dar Playstation 2.” (40028922, it’s Yudi’s funk that will give you a Playstation 2)

Eventually, the detective got up from the couch and walked to the door, putting the numbers and watching it with one trembling eyebrow as the door opened effortlessly. He pinched his nose bridge with a groan and an amused huff. Knowing his luck, Cellbit should’ve expected something like that.

However, he quickly straightened his posture, combing his hair with his fingers and adjusting his coat. That was it. The last piece of the puzzle. The final level. He had no more time for playing around.

“Ok. Thank you very much for your cooperation and… trust, Pac. I appreciate it a lot. We make a good team when we work together.” He hesitated before stepping forward and didn’t quite look back, but Pac could feel those piercing brown eyes on him. “I know we were just joking but…You’re a good ally. You and Mike both. Hope we can keep fighting side by side in the future.”

“Y-yeah, of course! The Favela sticks together forever, right?”

“...Yes. We’re family. That is what we do.” Cellbit nodded and Pac mirrored him, even if the other was already getting inside the other room.

That was cool.

Dramatic.

But cool.

Pac was in the middle of sending Roier a message saying that Cellbit was heading in his direction when a thought went right through his brain, making him freeze.

“Wait.” He said out loud, looking behind to face the robot green rats that always followed him and Mike around. “Mike told him that this was like Roier’s idea and not some enigma left by the Federation, yeah?”

He began biting his nails, thinking about all the steps and parties involved in this surprise that Roier wanted to give to his husband as a gift. He wasn’t the only one invited to participate in it. Mike, Bagi, Philza, Baghera, Badboyhalo… “I mean, someone must have warned him, right?”

The rat shrugged.

Pac snorted, hand flying to his mouth before his wheezes could catch his friend’s attention and make him come back, quickly getting out of the place before Cellbit realized what he was really walking into.

(In the distance, he was almost sure that he heard a surprised shout followed by one laughter that, at this point, he already knew very well. But sometimes a good gossiper needs to know when to die for a fofoca and when to run away with half of it.)

(He needed to go tell everything to Fit first, afterall.)

[~*~] Fun facts!

The first part with Pac and Mike is inspirated in that bit they have going on where Pac mimics Mike's accent and in turn Mike makes it thicker and talks faster and they just keep it going on! They also use it when they want to do something illegal (like escape from the prision on the latest event) so the translator won't catch exactly what they're saying

40028922 is a very known number in Brazil because it was a phone number used to participate in a kid TV Show and one of the hosts had this jingle where he would sing song it and say that you would get a Playstation 2. It's so known that using it as a secret code it's a bit like... rick rolling the person.

It's not made very clear but this is kind of inspired by @squeaky-n-blushy 's tags on my guapoduo tickle hc and Cellbit is actually walking directly to the end of a puzzle made by Roier as a gift where his prize are tickles :D Yay!!

#Cellbit: I am the master of the teases and antecipation I am ruthless I have no mercy I am unstoppable #Pac: a// Cellbit: Friend is uncomfortable? Friend want me to stop?? Friend is sad??? *sad wet cat noises*#I tried to make this a bit out of my comfort zone! :D With plenty of teases and antecipation and took a while to write but I am very happy!#You can see this as romantic but honestly I think they have something much weirder going on #qsmp tickles #qsmp tickling #Ticklish!Pac #Ler!Cellbit #I regret nothing #I wanted to make the dialogue in portuguese on the tickle part too but I would've died fr fr #Sarcastic and acid Pac lives rent free in my mind I mean did you see the prank he and Mike did to Foolish to get him back about the prison?#Crazy stuff for real for real xD #Kanene's fanfic #Kanene's fic

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lopsicle · 2 years

Text

I’m going to be doing one Headcanon post and one tk fic a day, from now on.

I saw someone requested Byler headcanons, so I’ll just be doing Mike in general.

Mike Wheeler tickle headcanons

Lee:

•Absolute baby man.

•Would constantly deny being ticklish.

•His worst spot is definitely his feet with his belly bring his 2nd.

•Used to HATE tickling, but has grown to like it through his friends.

•He’s more of a stubborn lee then a bratty lee, like if someone’s ticking him to change his mind on something, he isn’t changing his mind any time soon.

•Maybe because he doesn’t want them to stop idk

•Very weak to raspberries; he legit screams if he gets one.

•Also his laughter, just omg. It is so loud, but so contagious and adorable.

•He definitely giggles when his belly buttons tickled.

•His favourite tickles are reward tickles, especially from El/Will.

•Hates being tickled in public.

•Hard tickles work better then soft tickles.

•Would never ask for tickles.

•Teases that get him our

‘Come on, it’s clear that you wanted this!’

‘Mike, if you want me to tickle you, you have to ask first.’

‘Aww, you have a giggle button, that’s adorable!’

And if he’s being tickled, and he says ‘stop’ and then the ler actually stops. Like, what? How dare they, now he has to ask for them to keep tickling him.

Lers that get him out: Nancy, Will, El, Dustin, Lucas, Eddie, sometimes Max.

Byler tk scenario. Sometime between season 2 and 3.

Mike and Will were forced to hold a one of one DnD session, with Lucas being with Max and Dustin being with Steve. Mike had clearly put a lot of work into it, so Will couldn’t let it go to waste.

‘Will, Lieutenant Kas approaches you, and wails ‘This is for my leader!’ before sprinting towards you with his sword readied.’

‘Uh-uh, fireball! Will yells, messily throwing his dice.

The dice roll landed…off the table.

‘Shit, where’d it go?’ Exclaimed Mike, getting up out of his chair.

‘I’ll check under here.’ Will informed him, crouching under the table.

Mike scoured around the room, searching for his precious dice, until he looked behind the dryer of his basement.

‘Oh, it’s here, I’ll get it!’ Mike told the other, getting on the floor on his stomach and sliding between the thin space of the wall.

Will was nervous, really nervous about the campaign, all his work over the hours could be for nothing if this dice roll isn’t right, and seeing how much effort Mike out in, he couldn’t allow that, could he?

He sat next to the dryer, looking at his friend, before sliding a finger gently over his white sock.

‘Eep!’ Mike squeaked out, stretching his arms against the floor to try and reach the stupid dice.

‘What was that, Mike?’ Will beamed innocently.

‘N-nothing.’ Mike said, a bit too quickly.

‘Okay, I’ll just find out!’ Will smiled happily, before skittering all ten of his fingers along Mike’s soles.

Mike screamed with laughter from under the dryer, trying to kick his legs to the best of his ability as he fumbled with his hands to try and push himself away from the tickles.

‘W-WIHAHAHAHHAHALL, STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!’ Mike begged.

‘Hm, I don’t know, did I roll a 20?’ Will teased, smiling at his plan.

Mike looked at his dice. A 6, but no time for that now.

He fumbled with his squirming his hands to flip the dice over and finally

‘YEHAHAHAAHS, ITHAHAHS AHAHAHAHAHAHA 20!’

Almost immediately, Will removed his fingers and grabbed Mike by the ankles, pulling him free from the prison.

‘You’re a dick.’ Mike giggled.

———

Milelven tk scenario.

Sometime between Season 1 and 2.

•Mike couldn’t be happier. Will was finally saved, he had grown to like Max as a member of the group, the gate was closed, and most importantly, Eleven had returned.

•They wanted to make up for all the time they lost, both desperate to see each other and talk about what they had done while they were away.

•‘And so, Mr. Clarke was in the middle of teaching, when Ryan burst through, like half an hour late, and his nose was just covered in blood…’ Mike babbled on.

•El zoned him out, finding comfort in the white noise of his voice. She was admittedly curious about something. After discovering ticklish through the TV 134 days ago, she was curious about Mike.

•However, going about asking wasn’t enough. She needed to test the theory.

•Slowly lifting her hand, she placed it against Mike’s thin T-shirt and began prodding her fingers at his belly.

•‘And then he went to the frog containers, and- dah, ahahahahahaha, E-El, wiahahahahahaht!’ Taken by surprise, Mike squirmed around against Eleven’s messy prods at his belly, sometimes poking at his belly button, causing him to squeal and squeak.

‘You are ticklish, Mike.’ Eleven states.

‘Yeahahahahah, nahahaahahaha shihahahahahat!’

Eleven excitedly moved her hands up to his sides, striking her fingertips up and down them.

‘Ee-eeep!’ Mike squealed, wiggling from side to side. ‘Ohahahahahakay, you can stahahahahahp now!’ He pleaded, kicking his legs in the air.

Eleven removed her hands from him, and placed them on her lap.

‘That was cute.’ Eleven beamed.

——-

Ler Mike:

•He’s really new to being a ler.

•Like, he was always the victim in his family due to Nancy always tickling him.

•He finds it hard to tease people, cause he flusters himself with his own teases.

•Definitely more of a rough ler.

•But after tickling, he’s definitely like really caring and making sure the lee is okay.

•Uses only tickles people for revenge.

•But sometimes he’ll give cheer up tickles.

•The teases he can use is

‘Your laughter is just so adorable!’

‘Come on, don’t hide your face!’

‘Okay, let’s count your ribs.. one, two, stop squirming, you’re making me lose my count!’

•His tickling style is just clawing his fingers around slowly at one spot and slowly changing areas.

•Sometimes holds down lees if they’re okay with it.

•Defo gives cuddle tickles.

•And here’s some Byler tickle scenarios.

•It takes place after vol.2, with them riding back to their home. Eleven is sleeping on the far right window seat, with Mike next to her and Will next to him. Jonathon and Argyle are talking in the front.

•Will decided to break the silence. ‘D-did you mean everything you said to El back there?’ He asks, biting at his cheek and gripping onto his knee.

•’Huh? Oh, of course! Why wouldn’t I?’ Mike inquires.

•Will looks down, sniffling slightly.

‘Even the part where you said your life began the day you met her?’

•Mike looks at him in confusion, and then his stomach drops. The day Will went missing.

‘Oh, no, no, no.’ Mike repeats, as Will quietly sobs into his hand. Mike pulls Will from his seat so his head is laying against the others chest.

•’I didn’t realise..Will, you matter so, so much to me. I don’t know what I’d go if I lost you. Hawkins has never been the same without you, and I think I know why.’ Mike monologues, looking directly into Will’s teared filled eyes.

‘W-what?’ Will chokes out.

‘You’re the heart, not me. The heart would of never, ever forgotten his friend. You hold our group together, Will. I missed you.’ He gently placed his hands on Will’s shoulders.

‘T-thanks Mike, I really needed that..’ he giggles silently, hiding his face against the others chest.

‘What are you giggling about, huh?’ Teases Mike, catching onto the situation and slowly circling a finger against the back of Will’s neck.

‘Eep! M-mike, yoheheheu kneheheowheh whehehat you’re doehehehinh!’ Will whines, squirming around in his seat.

‘Oh, I think I don’t, can you tell me?’ Mike begins clawing five fingers against the back of his neck.

‘Nahahahahah, Mihahahahahake, dohahahahahahn’t!’ Will wails, jumping around in his seat.

‘Don’t what, Will?’ Mike grins.

‘Tihahahahahckle me!’ Will screams.

‘Tickle you? Okay!’ Mike says happily, switching to pinching at his ribs, earning some high pitched squeaks.

‘Eek, nahahah, whahahahahy?’ Will exclaims, gripping onto Mike’s shirt.

•After a while, Mike would stop.

‘I can’t believe Will the Wise would fall for the ‘tickle me’ trick!’ Mike giggles, still poking at Will’s side.

‘Oh, shheheut up! Will giggles, hitting his shoulder, before looking forward. ‘Mike, you may not be the heart of the party, but you’re the heart to me.’ Will smiles, blushing slightly while hiding his sweaty palms behind his back, anxiously waiting a response.

‘Thanks Will, I think you’re kinda my heart too!’ Mike beams obliviously.

Now for Milelven.

This is gonna take place sometime between season 2 and 3 when these two were madly in love.

Eleven and Mike are sitting on El’s bed, and Elvlaying on her back and her belly on Mike’s lap. El had only recently discovered tickling and was still trying to figure out everything about it. One thing she knew was that she liked it.

‘H-hey Mike..’ she whispered out quietly, instantly regretting trying to start the conversation.

‘Yeah, what is it, El?’ Mike said, his gaze averting to Eleven’s eyes.

El felt a blushing creeping into her cheeks. What was wrong with this? She know she enjoyed tickling and Mike was more then happy to, so why couldn’t she ask?

‘C-could you..?’ El asked, wiggling her fingers in the air before turning away from him, her cheeks caked in a crimson red.

‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean.’ Mike grinned.

El whined at her boyfriend. ‘You know what I mean!’

‘If you want something, you have to ask, cause right now I’m clueless.’ Mike explained, trying to sound calm.

El looked at the first pristine white blanket next to her.

‘T-tickles…’ she muttered, feeling her face heat up more.

‘Oh, tickles! Why don’t you say so, I’ve been happy to tickle your ticklish self!’ Mike teased, gently glazing his fingertips over her belly, causing her to twist around and giggle.

El was going crazy over the teases, hiding her face in the blanket and desperately trying to stay in place.

‘Aww, El, don’t hide your cute face!’ Mike teases, squeezing at her sides.

Eleven erupted into laughter, rolling on the bed and kicking her legs rapidly.

‘Stahahahahahahahaahahahp!’ She begged, looking up at Mike.

Wheeler immediately removed his hands, and patted at El’s forehead.

‘You okay?’ He asked, a look of concern in his eyes.

‘Y-yes, I’m fine, it was just…a lot of tickle.’ She said, avoiding his gaze and blushing more.

‘Well, I think you handled it well!’ He said, pulling her closer and wrapping his arms around her waist.

‘T-thanks, Mike.’ El said, closing her eyes; holding their foreheads together.

And that’s it for this post. Be sure to like if you enjoyed, and I am open to any requests you may have, I love inspiration! I’ll be posting a tk fic later tonight, I don’t know whose in it yet. Maybe just Steddie again.

(Also I know my dnd section isn’t accurate, I do play DND I just can’t be bothered to make it accurate, and others may not know how to play.)

#sfw tickling community #stranger things tickle #stranger things tickle headcanons #lee! mike #lee mike #ler! mike #ler mike #ticklish! mike #mileven #byler #ler! will #lee! will #lee! eleven #ler eleven

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